Stones
by Beautifully-Ungraceful
Summary: Based on Final Fantasy. A young theif takes something from the palace that will change his life forever along with the friends he makes on his way. Through epic battles and hardships, a man will change the future of a kingdom.
1. The Wood

I do not own Final Fantasy although this is a crazy creation from my own mind =)

Chapter one:

The woods were dark, and the fog was thick around the heels as a lonely thief strode among the trees sewn deep into the earth. Not too many of the slums' thieves dared to uses the Swamp Wood as a navigation rout, but those who did found its twist and turns to their advantage. That is …if they knew their way about it. Unfortunately most did not.

Our particular lone wolf was one of the many who, not unlike even those with navigation, found himself staring at the same jumble of trees no matter which way his feet took him. Without carrying sword or weapon the wood neighboring the Damsunth slums acted as not just a maze but a maze harboring many teeth, sharp like daggers ready to plunge themselves into the backs of the ones who journey through the mouth of the beast. For that is what those who live near call the thick jumble of trees. The Beast.

Its tall oaks blocked out the little sunlight that was left in the late afternoon, and inside the belly of this beast loomed creatures so foul that they are not even hunted for the meat on their backs. The sweet scent of the swamp flowers is folly to enjoy, for as it draws you near so do the plants once beautiful and inviting gape open with mouths and fangs.

Mud and dirt caked thick on the bottoms of the thief's boots, and in turn softened the sounds of his footsteps on the forest floor. His breath could be seen flowing white from his mouth as he breathed deep, uncertain of his getaway decision. Close to his heart in his right hand a small package was held, but not without want of replacing it with a sword. The foul whispers of misleading calm called to him from the branches of far off trees.

Regret flew threw him not unlike an arrow accompanied by a poisoned tip of dread. This light little morsel of shine stolen from the palace storerooms was not worth flight from the guard, and it was most defiantly not worth being torn to pieces by some unrecorded terror among the trees of the Swamp Wood.

His grip on the package grew tighter as his feet strode on through the forest; their city nature causing them to stumble among the roots and fallen branches. A light shone bright through the upcoming trail. Hope once again flickered in his chest, and fear gave away to excitement. Could it be that he staid close to the edge of the wood after all?

The trees soon opened up to the late afternoon air as the thief's foot caught the last root of the outskirt trees, and he fell to his hands; the stolen package flung from his grip landed a few feet away. Some would say that it was the wood's way of attempting to catch the fly that got away from the web.

He opened his eyes to the wide grassy field separating Damsunth from the Swamp Wood and gave a laugh of relief. The package lay momentarily forgotten.


	2. A Shot Walk

Okay, here is chapter two. I don't own Final Fantasy even though I'm not sure if I even have to put that in this case ^.^

The Field of Forigh grew thin in the place where Damsunth met the Wood. To our thief's relief he would not have to walk far to reach the capital city. With package now in hand he strode away from the forest, keen on laying low but not without bragging to a few of the Slums' other sticky-fingered occupants.

To the north and south the field went on forever. They seemed to disappear into the horizon, and no traveler would dare cross its length on foot. It, along with the wood, separated Damsunth (the capital) from the rest of the vast country of Nambrall. Unfortunately this natural barrier of miles of nothingness made travel and communication difficult. Those only with large sums of profit could afford to make the trip across Forigh to any other Nambrallen city.

Our thief walked briskly across the plain looking over his shoulder every few minutes or so"¦ making sure no woodland brute followed him out, disappointed by a missed meal. The loud pounding of his heart soon faded to a dull thumping as the trees faded away. Still he did not journey on without taking one last peak at the spider web of trees that he so narrowly escaped.

Along with this cautiousness came the thoughts of his treasure. Inside the small package rested what he hoped to be his ticket into wealth. Not many of the Slums' occupants held much to their names, and it was that misfortune that drove numerous citizens to thievery and pick pocketing. As his thoughts flowed back to life at home so did his feet follow his mind's path.

The plains were filled with small interesting creatures, mainly petite furry roos lingering about their holes or hopping about the tufts of long grass in search of something to eat. Their long floppy ears looked comical in the breeze as they went in circles about one another in play, and as the thief walked on they entertained him by running and hiding whenever he drew near.

The last bit of dread or uncertainty washed away from him as the walls of his home appeared and grew ever nearer. He did not consider himself lucky, nor did he truly consider the dangers of what he had accomplished. Many who take the task of appropriation within the Damsunth palace do not ever return with their loot, and with this thought he firmly tucked his package away in his tunic.


	3. A Surprizing Disguise

Ok chapter three is up. I have had a few hits on the story, but no reviews. So if you're reading plz review! Just to let me know how Im doing and all and whatnot.

Disclaimer: I don't own final fantasy, but this story is mine all mine! Although it is based off of ff it has no ff characters.

The walls of the city stood tall and were covered with years upon year's worth of vines and molds. They shone out against the yellow field with an earthy green hue, and were soft and fuzzy to the touch. This particular trait is what gave Damsunth its name of "The Green City", which it was so commonly called by outsiders.

Damsunth's walls held four large gates on either side, and each of those gates came equipped with two of the capital's guards (which by no doubt were looking for our thief in particular). You could see the peaks of the royal palace, located at the capital's heart, high above the rest of the city looming like great swords over the walls.

His arrival at the southern wall was met with an unfortunate adversary. As the thief sat hidden among the bushes not but a few yards away, the guard stood awaiting any traveler that needed access to the city ("And any runaway bandit that tried to sneak back home," he thought bitterly.).In the back of his mind he knew all along that this would happen; night was falling, and naturally the highly paid city guard would be ready to earn their salary.

He cursed his foul luck, and peaked around the bushes for a better look. Cool air swept down the field, and rustled the leaves of the plants that offered him shelter, and he froze in place. The thief could see the guard at their usual duty. They stood at either side of the gate shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. Their eyes pointed directly over Forigh towards the Wood. The helmets upon their heads shone with a dull gleam in the lowering sun.

The small bits of earth and twigs began to sting his palms, and he returned to his crouched upright position. The thief sat with legs and arms crossed with no hope of returning until daylight rose once more from the horizon and the guard made their morning rounds of the districts. He knew for certain that the fields held no promise for him, nor did any of the other gates. And so the sun disappeared along with the roos, and our thief drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Slow floating dreams swam through his head, the air around him cooled, and the night became silent. The guard standing at the gate soon became weary and sat down with their helmets in hand to rest before the shift, where to more men would take their place. Rarely did one ever come by south gate to the city during the night because of the shadow of the Wood"¦rarely.

The thief sat with his head in his hands drooling down his sleeve not knowing of what was to come, and deep within the package he carried, something began to stir. A tingling ran up his back, and the skin on his bones began to stretch and to become soft. This, of course, roused him from his slumber, and he whipped to drool from his cloths.

Off in the near distance the wheels of a wagon were turning. Upon this wagon sat a young merchant accompanied by his commodities. Closer and closer it came to the bushes were the thief was hidden, and so did he become aware.

"You! Old man!" a voice rang out through the night. The thief crouched ever lower in his hiding place wondering who could be traveling to the southern wall at this time. "What are you doing there?" The voice became ever clearer. Still the thief remained silent. He could now see the wagon approaching closer to where he sat.

He could hear the guard shuffle and rise to their feet. His heart pounded in his chest. The wagon man had given him away! Blood rushed threw his veins at an alarming speed, and the thief looked in every direction for a place to run. He could not risk going into the Wood again. But it as too late. The guards' heavy armor clanked as they ran towards the wagon. All he could do was sit as still as stone.

"Who are you? And what is it that you are talking about?" They asked the merchant.  
"My name is Lie'f. I am a merchant from Cail'em to the east of here, but you should be worried about the old man there and not me."

"Old man?" The thief thought. "I am no old man." The contents of the stolen package pulsed again.

Dismay and horror swam threw him as the guard walked around the bushes to find him sitting cold and rigid. Flight was not an option. He could barley breath, let alone move. Fright seemed to be the only thing that he knew. He was ready. Ready for the guard to grab him up, steal back his package, and lock him away. But it never came. Puzzled, he looked up.

One of the guard scratched his head, and the other looked at him like he was some sort of exotic creature. Did they not know who he was? Surly all of the guard had been informed of a thief from the palace treasury?

"Who are you, old man?" The guard that was formerly scratching his head lent the thief his hand. "Are you from the city?" The thief was unable to speak. He was struck down with fear and then, as it seemed, luck.

He was able to choke out one word in reply. ""¦Yes." The thumping on the inside of his chest continued. "Do they really not recognize me?" He thought. Obviously they did not. Fortune on this day seemed abundant, and so the thief took the guard's hand and rose from the ground with thanks.

Together, along with the wagon man, the thief and the guard walked up to the city gates where he was escorted inside. On his way in he could hear the guard talking amongst themselves, "Must be a bit mad that one, to sleep outside the gate."

Our thief could still feel the package against him from the inside of his tunic, and calm washed over him. "What luck!" he thought, and looked down at his hands. He stopped dead in his tracks for what he saw were not the hands of a young thief, but the hands of an elderly man withered with age. Words rang clear in his mind, "Old man."


End file.
